Split Ends
by Op-Chan
Summary: Axel, a continuous troublemaker, and hairdresser at a local salon called Split Ends, finds himself absolutely yearning about a boy named Roxas who just seems to blow him off, no matter how suave Axel acts. Will Axel win the affection of his desires?Akurok
1. Pancakes and Encounters

_Hello, everyone. It's Op-Chan here. This was really an impulse write, but I really enjoy it I hope you enjoy it, also.  
Happy reading. Please Review. :)_

**Split Ends**

I was never one to follow the rules.

A troublemaker, you might say.

My red hair as hot as my temper; as spiky as my exterior. I have a real knack for making trouble where no trouble could ever be birthed. Yeah, yeah, it got me in knee deep in shit, but I had no qualms about that. It gave me a rush. Made me feel good, y'know? It lighted the fire that toasted my imagination and cooked the next plan into perfection. Where one door got slammed shut, I was already picking the next lock open.

"Axel," I heard a whiny voice skirting the outside of my slumber, "axel," louder, "AXEL!"

"W-whoa! Goddamnit, you mullet-faced miscreant, what the hell do you want, it's a Saturday!" I was now face first onto my floor. Which, unfortunately hadn't been vaccuumed for weeks. I think there's a cracker on my face. My ass was thankfully covered by my blanket, but it was situated in what one would call a really awkward position. Especially around a flaming homosexual like Demyx.

I stared into his face, which just got a peek at how I ended up after he ripped me from my slumber onto my filthy floor. I didn't want to give him anymore eye-candy, so I growled and gave him what would be a really intimidating look around people who hadn't known me for nearly my whole life. I think it just made him giggle more. Which didn't help my dignity much.

I gritted my teeth and asked again.

"Why the hell did you wake me up, Demyx."

"Well, Mr. Grumpypants. The answer is simple enough. I want pancakes."

Silence, if the sound of my jaw dropping and mood splitting didn't make a sound. Which I'm pretty sure it did, since his face went from disgustingly pleasant to a look of unfathomable terror in a split second.

"No need to say anything," he stuttered, "I'll, uh, make them myself. I was just-" I got up from the floor, making sure the sheet didn't expose anything I wanted unseen, "yeah, uhm, bye. Sleep well."

I sat back down onto my bed, and rubbed my palm down my face. Honestly, I have no idea why I chose to bunk in this apartment with Demyx. We both don't have much of a family to stay with, but didn't I think that my sanity would steadily go down the drain having him remotely close?

If I didn't then, I do now.

I groaned, and flopped back onto my bed, my blanket only covering my bottom half, as I took a long stretch and stared at my ceiling. I sleep in the nude. I know what you're thinking. Close your mouth. It's just much more comfortable, and you don't waste laundry soap. Not that I do my own laundry, as Demyx does pretty much all of it around here.

I closed my eyes, my arms over my head, and groaned again. I guess I had better get up, I could see the black pancake smoke wafting in from under my door.

.

"See you, Demyx, I'm going to work," I almost considered grabbing a pancake, but withdrew my hand with a grimace and grabbed a stale muffin instead.

"You're 20 minutes late for work, already," he said, making a grumpy face at my rejection of his pancakes.

"Keeps them on their toes, doesn't it," I winked. It always made him happy when I winked at him.

To prove me right, his frown blossomed into a smile that I got a glance of before I shut the door and sauntered lazily down the hallway, one hand stuffed in the pocket of my red skinny jeans, one with the muffin up to my face. Which had a look that relayed the fact that I just don't give a damn.

Now, to sum it up, I am not gay. Nope, not gay, or straight. Neither one nor the other. I pursue who I want to pursue.

Personally, I don't want to pursue anyone right now. I am perfectly fine just being alo-whoawhoawhoa.

I almost stopped my parade down the hallway. My peepers just set sight on a blond-headed soul that had my pants stirring like a-oh crap. It's just my cell phone. I looked at the screen, sighed and picked up, the blond close enough to hear my voice.

"What? No. I am not buying you a flowerpot. No, it will not lighten up the apartment, goodbye," I looked the blond in his blue eyes, and simultaniously closed my cellphone, "it will, however, if a cute little blond happened to follow me home."

He gave me a passive look, and brushed past me.

Ouch, shut down. I could live with that for the time being. I was pushing being late for work by half an hour.

I smirked, looking behind my shoulder at the blonds retreating figure. He'll keep me on my toes for sure. Just my type.

With a dignified skip, hop, and a grin, I opened the door to the stairwell and proceeded to descend down the stairs via the railing. It's about time I got to work. They must be fuming. I laughed.


	2. Just a trim

I work as a hairdresser at a local studio called Split Ends. I think it suits me, and they weren't so fussy about what I wore. They were however, completely anal about being on time. We had to be at the salon at one o'clock on Saturdays. I had planned on sleeping until at least eleven o'clock, but Demyx woke me up aeons before I wanted to.

.

I pulled up the sleeve of my black skin-tight shirt and checked my watch, it was now one forty-two. I could feel my bosses raging pulse as I put my hand against the glass door and pushed it open.

Inside Split Ends was decorated in shiny black and red leather. Posters of various hairstyles ran along the walls. The black ceiling reached up to over 15 feet high, and on the ceilings were big black fans that rotated slowly. When you walked in, directly to the left was the secretary's desk; to the right was a round, white coffee table surrounded by red leather chairs with rounded backs. An assortment of hair magazines were scattered on the table.

A few legs from the door in the centre of all the hairdressers chairs was a sweet little sitting area, usually occupied by the acquaintances of our customers. It had a glass fountain in the middle of the love seats, with a cup dispenser. The fountain was running at all times, so you could just dip your paper cup in the fountain and grab a drink.

I put red dye in it once. I was almost fired. People thought there was blood in the fountain. Biggest amount of excitement that this place has ever seen since I dyed the mayors hair pink.

Almost, you see, because even though I'm a trouble-maker, I'm the most talented troublemaker this side of Town. Which is why I had no trouble being late. That, and I never have any people for appointments before two. The secretary, Lisa, and I have a deal going on. She gives me an hour leeway, and I give her free haircuts. Dyes, perms, and highlights are regular price, though. Let's not push it.

It still didn't stop my boss from crawling down my throat though. The second my leg crossed the threshold into the salon, he was on my ass like a needy Demyx at a gay bar.

Not that I've seen that image before.

Oh, speaking of man sex.

"Axel," Xemnas, the anagram of mansex, and manager of Split Ends. I don't think anyone here has even met the owner before, actually. He, or she, we don't know, hasn't even popped in, or anything at all. Especially after all these pranks I've been throwing. "Axel, how many times have I told you to get here at ONE O'CLOCK?" He made a point of pronouncing the syllables of the last two words. I wanted to wipe my face with the lovely shower he just gave me. I could tell he was trying to be quiet since we had customers in here already.

"I know," I drawled, and sidestepped him, wiping my face before he turned around. I made way for my chair, "one o'clock I got it. At least I'm here, aren't I?" I flashed him a grin, making a show of spinning my chair a couple rotations before sitting in it. He looked pissed at my indifference. It made my crooked smile even more pronounced.

"If you weren't so great at hairstyling, I would've fired you a hell of a long time ago."

"Have you gotten laid lately?" I made the effort of taking my cell phone out of my pocket, "because I could order you a hooker for toni-"

"That is NO BUSINE-"

"Uh oh, here comes Yuffie. I think it's best to be quiet. Her young mind doesn't need to be ravished so early in the morning, Boss."

His hand was in mid-air, pointing at me like he was a musketeer, ready to jaunt a good one into my eye.

"Oh, oh! I can guess! A-a..a fencer! You know, that sport! With the swords!"

She's always energetic.

I laughed, "close. I was thinking more of a musketeer myself."

Xenmas huffed, and trumped into his back office, shutting his door.

Yuffie and I looked at eachother and smiled, "you know," she said, as I was getting out of my chair, "you ARE quite the troublemaker."

I was making sure my scissors and razors were in order, but I stole a glance and gave her another sneaky grin, "so I've been told."

"So, how many customers you have today? I'm pretty jammed up. It's going to be an exhausting day, but I'm ready for it!"

"You always are, and I'm not sure. Hey, Leese," I called, to Lisa up at the desk, "how many clients do I have today?"

She hummed, "all booked up, Axel, you first client should be here in about 5 minutes."

Yuffie and I looked at the clock between our two stations. Ours were side by side; the last two on the left side when you walked in. The clock read two fifty-five.

"Mine should be here around the same time as yours. Are you ready?"

"As always."

.

I always wondered where peoples heads have been before I go and touch them. I easily touch an easy 10 heads or more a day. I always make sure to watch my hands after I'm done with a client. As far as I'm concerned, a lot of people know I'm going to wash their heads before I cut their hair, so they don't bother with giving their head a nice dip and clean. Ew. Don't tell me you don't do it yourself. I know you do. You have at least once.

Bleh, I was exhausted. Just one more client left. A new one; I've never seen this one before. I think his name was Roxas, or something. I don't know. I introduce myself, and ask their name, I don't bother to read the sheet. He should be here any minute. It was six o'clock, I would be home by seven if I'm lucky.

I scratched my belly and yawned, "Yuffie, I'm gonna go take a pi-ahhhh. I'm going to go to the bathroom. If my client comes in, sit him down in my chair, alright?"

"Aye aye!"

With her assurance, I turned around and headed for the back of the salon. There's was 4 doors in the back. The Managers(Ew, Mansex) at the end of the hall, the bathroom, closest to the salon on the left, and in the middle, the hair storage room, full of the colors and extra things we may need, and a little room with a kitchen and fridge.

I walked into the bathroom, un-zipped my pants and started business.

Ahhh, that's nice. I hadn't taken a whizz all day.

After I was done my business, I washed my hands in the white porcelain sink, and dried them off with the paper towel dispenser. I then proceeded to walk out the door to the last client of the day. Then I can go home and sprawl out on the couch, and make some real pancakes.

"Alright," I clapped my hands and rubbed them together, "my name is Axel and I'm going to cut your hair today, am I right?"

The chair swung around and my brain almost oozed through my ears.

"Um, yeah, right. I just want a trim, though. I like my hairstyle if that's alright."

It was the blond in the hallway. Oh my...I smirked, "That is perfectly fine. What's your name?"

"Roxas."

Roxas. Yum, I almost licked my lips. "Alright, Roxas, come this way, please. I'm just going to wash your hair."

He got up from the seat, and made his way past me towards the washing sinks in the back-right of the salon. I stood back and stole a little glance at his ass.

Oh my God. I have to stay decent. This is my job. This is my job. Only to cut his hair. Only to cut his hair.

Whew, okay. I think he knew I was the one in the hallway. His cool exterior proved that. I didn't exactly make a big first impression.

He sat down in the chair, and I put a towel around his neck, and pulled his small shoulders into the scoop in the tub. I twisted the taps on and took the showerhead off the hook. I couldn't help but let my mind wander to the boy underneath me. You don't know how hard this was; to see his face with his eyes closed, his head back. I was going insane.

"This, uh, this warm enough?" I asked, spraying the water onto his hair. He made a noise of approval, and I resumed running my hands through his blond hair.

After the shampoo and conditioner (and a painful embarrassment when I took an extra 5 minutes of letting my mind get away from myself. Thank God he stopped me, I would've had a problem. If you know what I mean.) I wrapped his hair in a towel and led him back to my chair. I could feel Yuffie's knowing gaze at the back of my head. I knew what she was thinking. She was totally going to pester me about it later.

Not that I wasn't going to tell her how unbearably attractive I find this guy. Oh, he's going to be mine. I inwardly grinned.

"So," I said, putting a black cape around his neck, letting my fingers run along his skin, "just a trim. I can do that." I smiled at him through the mirror.

"Good, thanks."

That's all? I sighed, and smiled again for good measure. Never before has anyone so blatantly rejected me.

I ruffled his hair and started working the ends with my scissors. I assumed he wanted his spiky hairstyle that he has when he walked in.

"I'll be done in a jiff, Roxas," I said. I needed more small-talk, "So, you live in my apartment, huh?"

"I'm sorry, you are?"

Oh jeez. He didn't even remember me?! I heard Yuffie giggle. She didn't know about today, but she could tell I was trying to get into his pants.

My pride was taking a serious beating, but I suppose it's better to let this mornings humiliation slide and start over.

"Yeah, I saw you walking down my hallway a few times. You live on my floor, I think. The 4th one?" I put my scissors away and strungs my fingers through the sides to test the length and see if they were even.

"Ah, yeah, I do..You don't need to dry my hair, thanks. As long as it's trimmed."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I'm kinda in a hurry," he looked uncomfortable.

I leaned close, my lips almost on his ear, "why don't you stay a while? I can take you home."

He jumped right up and took the cape off. Damn it.

"I'll pay your secretary. Thanks for the cut, but I really have to go. No hard feelings."

"Right," I put up a professional front, "thanks for coming. Come back soon."

"Thanks," he left.

I slumped in my chair and put a hand to my forehead. Damn it. I've never felt this way about anyone. I still wasn't sure if i just wanted to get in his pants, or if he really intrigued me. I knew, though, that I was pissed off.

"Axel," Yuffie laughed, "went well, did it?"

"I don't want to talk about it. I'm going home. See you tomorrow."

Home I went. Home to sleep it off.


	3. Neighbors

I went home and stormed into my room. I think Demyx was asking how work went, but when I'm angry I turn into a real menace. I try to tone it down around him, though.. Deep down in side, he's a real woman, more than his friend Marly, who has pink hair. Pink and long, and wavy. He hasn't come out of the closet yet, but the man has been growing flowers in his apartment, I think it's time the closet has been ripped opened.

Fucking..fuck. I stripped off my shirt and threw it at my mirror and fell onto bed, burying my face in my pillow. I made a throaty groan of annoyance at the knock on my door a moment later.

"Don't come in," I said, the pillow muffling my voice.

"Are you alright? You haven't been yourse- well, you have, but you stormed in here like a- well, you just seem grumpy, and I thin-" I tuned him out after that, and waited until he was done rambling. Listening to the shit that came out of his mouth was going to make my head explode. I should really get a check on my frustration level. He spoke again after a pause.

"I can tell it's about a boy, Axel. My mullet-senses are tingling," that made me smile into my pillow. He knows making fun of his mullet will make me in a better mood. "Come tell me about him while I make you some panca-"

"Okay, I'll come out, Mullet-man, but nix the pancakes, alright? I don't need a smokers cough from all the smoke you flume through the apartment." I rolled over and got out of bed. Somehow, all Demyx needs to do is offer to make pancakes for me, and I'm right out of bed in a snap. An alert rings in my head, and you do whatever it humanly takes to make him stop. You haven't tried Demyx's pancakes.

You don't want to try Demyx's pancakes.

Seriously. The thought of it makes my balls tighten. In a bad way.

I lazily walked to my door, opened it and made a grumpy face at him then proceeded to walk to the couch. He fluttered past me and jumped feet first onto the couch and patted the spot beside him, which I sat in, giving him another grumpy face.

"Okay, there's 3 main things I HAVE to ask," he said, putting up 3 fingers, the pointer finger on his other hand poised on the first finger. "His name," a finger down, "where did you meet him," another, "and I want to molest you because you have no shirt on."

"Roxas, in the hallway and I trimmed his hair at the salon, and no."

"Why not?" Cue sad-faced Demyx.

"Because," I started getting up, "you know what? this really isn't helping so I'm just gonn-"  
"No! I'm sorry, just, sit down. I'll behave. Want me to get my guitar? I will sing you a song."

"Can I just sleep?"

"Go find him. He lives on our floor, right? Go knock on all the doors and get him. It will be like a fairytale! He'll have to love you for sure!"

"I think that friend, Marluxia, of yours is rubbing off some sentimental flowery fairytale-shit on you." I stood, "but the thought is intruiging." I looked towards the door.

"Pester him if he doesn't. The Axel I know doesn't take a no for an answer. The Axel I know gets what he wants, am I right?" I think the pep-talk was working.

"Yes, you are," I looked thoughtful, and the corner of my mouth lifted in a small smirk.

"Then go," he said with finality.

I got my shirt from the mirror, put it on, and walked out of my bedroom to the apartment door. I stopped, my hand on the door, and looked at Demyx. He's always been here for me, through everything. He deserves a really good guy.

"Hey," I smiled a genuine smile at him, "thanks," and I left.

.

Ugh. Being this emotional gets me soft. Time to get into business. I'm going to get that little blond whatever it takes. In all honesty, I don't care if I don't play fair. When have I ever? I smirked something around the equivalency of evil, strolling over to opposite end of the hallway; the direction Roxas was coming from this morning.

Which door? I pondered for a moment in the hallway, which smelled like it hadn't witnessed real air for a long while. Most apartments do. With my salary, maybe in about a year I should be able to move out. That's the plan. Yes, Axel, has a plan.

I sauntered to the last door at the end of this hallway. Door number 401. Demyx and I are hosted in 410. The last door at our end of the hallway.

I cleared my throat. Was I nervous? Hell no. Of course not. Not Axel. Not me! Not the man who can walk into a woman's bathroom with no emotion, as crazed females wonder what the hell I'm doing in there. Not the man who can grab a man's crotch with no intention of going home with him that night. Not the ma- yes, fuck it. I was nervous.

I knocked.

I waited.

The door opened. I almost laughed out loud. Thank God this wasn't Roxas. Working on keeping my voice calm was proving very difficult.

"What?" a very grumpy middle-aged balding man in a sweaty under shirt and boxers with hot dogs on them was leaning against the door before me.

I hesitated, giving this man another once-over. I had to pretend to rub my nose to hide the erupting smile on my face.  
"Well?" he coaxed, rubbing his hairy stomach.

"Nothing, sorry. Wrong, uh, sorry," I hid my laugh with some serious acting skills.

The cough never fails.

He shut the door, and I turned around, took a few weak steps, put a hand on the opposite wall and laughed my ass off. If I was nervous before, nothing could be worse than that. Nothing. Oh sweet, sweet humour. You have done well.

I leaned my back against the wall and sighed contently. Alright, time to get a move-on.

I was ready to set fire onto someones high-class prada handbag, and stab someones eyes out with her steel stilettos. Door 405 had a serious lack of manners. All I asked was if Aunt Flo was in town and she threw a fucking, ah, what do you call them... compact! Those makeup things. With the powder? Yeah, well she threw the case at me, so I retaliated by opening it a crack and throwing it back at her in an epic Axel-induced powder bomb.

Serves her right, I was trying to sympathize.

I hate neighbors.

.

I was starting to wonder if Roxas actually lived on this floor. Door 406 was the next one. Demyx popped out at around door 404, the neighbor with the creepy rat on her shoulder, and gave me a glass of water with a swirly straw. I think it was his non-verbal way of encouragement.

I didn't know if I wanted to thank him or stare at him like he was crazy enough to think this would encourage me.  
If it was some vodka, maybe.

Alright, lucky number 406! Four-oh-six. My feet were dragging on the ground, making we wish I had put some shoes when I got a look at the floor.

I put a hand against the door and sighed, then knocked and waited.

A brown-haired boy answered, and I nearly clicked my heels when he mentioned that he had a resident named Roxas living with him.

"Yeah, I'll get him, just a minute!" the boy smiled and closed the door, making me wait impatiently in the hallway.

The doorknob turned, I put on one of my sexy grins and a hand against the doorframe, leaning slightly inward.

"Hello Rox-"

"Oh, it's you." Yes, yes it's me, "I don't like you." Ouch, I let my hand drop.

"Oh, c'mon. I-" the brown haired boy was peeking at me from behind the couch. That's not suspicious. "Can you tell your friend to leave us alone?"

He looked behind his shoulder. The slim shoulders I pushed gently, and held onto.

"I'll just come out into the hallway if it's this important." He shut the door and looked up at me impatiently, "alright. What do you want?"

You. "Uh, jeez. To-"

"Apologize?"

"No, I mean, yes," I haven't stuttered like this since third grade when I got laughed at because I lost a tooth when I was in a class spelling bee and my tooth shot from my mouth down my teachers blouse.

He gave me an eye, and spoke, "apology accepted."

I let out the air I was holding and closed my eyes. When I opened them he wasn't there and the door was closed.

I was almost disappointed, but this was progress. It's different, and I can accept that. He's not licking my shoes like most people I sought after. It's something different. I like challenges.

I can take this.

Tomorrow, Blondie. I chuckled and walked back down the hallway to my apartment. The grungy stained hallway looked like gold at the moment.

I needed sleep.

.

A/N: Wow, sorry for the long wait! I went to an anime convention. As Xmas Town Roxas; haha. You can see me on DA. NoUProductions.  
Op-Chan


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